


The Five Times She Misses Tehran

by myoldfriend



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 21:14:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myoldfriend/pseuds/myoldfriend
Summary: The five times Adena misses Tehran, and the one time she doesn’t.





	The Five Times She Misses Tehran

I.

She thinks about it sometimes. One time it’s when she’s sitting alone at her desk trying to work, looking at recent photos on her computer and an old Googoosh song starts playing softly on shuffle. She remembers this song; she remembers it playing at her older cousin’s wedding when she was just a little girl. Her cousin Nasreen had looked gorgeous and Adena wanted Nasreen to wear the dress forever. She remembers how grand the party was, her maman in a deep green dress, which was hidden by her long black manteau and her loosely worn _roosari_ when they were outside. Her baba and older brother wore rich blue suits and ties that her uncle had brought back from London. Her little sister Sara in a lilac dress with frills. She remembers the music, the dancing, the overwhelming smells of food and perfume. It was one of her earliest memories. They were all happy, the El-Amins.

The song ends and some song in French follows, she changes the song back to listen to Googoosh sing again, suddenly not ready to leave the memory. She thinks about what life would have been like if she stayed in Tehran all those years ago, thinks if she would have done well on her Concour exam and what career she would have pursued. Adena doesn’t let herself think about whether or not she would have had her own wedding, but instead imagines what her sister’s will be like. She remembers missing her brother Ali’s wedding just three years after she had left. She remembers being in a hotel room in Istanbul and crying on the phone to her mother. Guilt and anger catching in her throat, “Maman, _luftaan_ forgive me”.  
“ _Geeryan nakun azizam_ , it’s alright darling please don’t cry anymore” her mom said softly.

“Hey, is this is in Farsi?” Kat is suddenly in the doorway, wearing her clothes from work, and a bag of take-out in her hand. Adena lowers the music, “Kat, I didn’t even hear you come in,” she says “Yeah, this is Googoosh, she’s an incredibly famous Persian pop star”. Kat leans against the doorway smiling, “Oh yeah? She sounds good, turn it back up”. Adena smiles and makes it a little louder. Kat nods her head along, eyes squinting like she’s trying to understand what Googoosh is singing about.

“You know, what I was little I went to my cousin’s wedding and this song played at some point and I remember my mom danced to it”. Kat smiles wider, “Yeah?” she has found that Adena doesn’t mention growing up in Tehran too much, so she soaks up any story she gets, earnestly trying to remember them and paint a picture of a place she’s never seen in her mind. “Yeah, she always danced beautifully, I remember when I was growing up and going to parties and everyone pulling me to dance, but I was so embarrassed because I didn’t know how to dance like my mom, I just wanted to sit and clap along and watch her, you know?”

“You miss her, don’t you?” Kat asks with a sad smile.  
“I miss all of them,” Adena admits.  
“Hey, Persian weddings sound really fun though!” Kat says.  
“Oh you have no idea, it was a whole affair Kat, music and dancing and so many people in one place. Oh my god, hours in the salon the day of the wedding, and don’t forget engagement parties!” Adena says, fondly remembering the smell of hairspray and sweat.

“How do you dance to this kind of music?” Kat asks. Adena raises her eyebrow smiling, “Oh do you think you’re ready for that?” She gets up, grabs her laptop and motions for Kat to follow her. They move into the small living room, and Kat leaves their take-out on the kitchen counter.

“Okay, I have to find a better song for this” Adena scrolls through and looks for a few seconds until a more upbeat song starts playing, “perfect”.  
“Hey, this kinda sounds like club music” Kat says, starting to sway her hips a little. Adena lets out a low whistle shaking her head, “Wait until you see the clubs in Tehran”. Kat is shocked to hear this, but the thought of Adena in a tight outfit with her hair out in a club, pressed up against her, is enough to make her hips still for a moment.

“Okay ready?” Adena claps. Kat nods trying to mirror Adena. “For us,” Adena says circling her wrists above her head and bringing them to her shoulder height gracefully, “It’s all about the hips and the shoulders and arms”. Adena sings along for a few seconds, “and always circle your wrists”. Kat tries to keep up, giggling when Adena starts wolf whistling. The song goes on and they start dancing around each other, never getting too close. Kat finally sits and watches Adena dance for her, moving in smooth fluid motions, as if her hips, shoulders and hands have all conspired together. The song finally comes to an end and Kat claps for her. “That was pretty hot, I can’t wait to go to a Persian wedding with you now” Kat laughs.

 

II.

Adena’s sister is studying for the Concours. Kat insists that it’s like the SAT, but Adena argues that it’s crueler. “The SAT just determines what kind of college you can get into, the Concours determine your career!” Adena often counters. She is in the kitchen arranging flowers one morning when Sara calls her in tears, “I can’t do it anymore, I’ve been studying for months, _nameeshe dega_ ” she whines on the phone to Adena.

“Sara _joon_ , listen to me okay, it’s going to be fine. You’re such a smart girl _mash’Allah_ , I know it’s tough right now but it’s going to pass and everything will work out”. Sara huffs on the phone, “How do you know, you never even took this stupid test”. Adena puts her scissors down and sighs, “Sara…”  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m under a lot of stress, I’m…”  
“No, it’s okay, I understand”  
“I’m sorry Adena” Sara repeats softly.  
“I know _joonam_ ,” Adena says nodding. “Anyway, go study, we’ll talk soon okay?”

Adena thinks about it later that night when she’s in bed. Kat is already asleep beside her, her soft curls tickling her ear. She thinks about all her friends who actually studied for the Concours while she spent hours with Shireen in her room doing other things. They read magazines, watched music videos that the Islamic Republic would not approve of, and kissed. If they both studied as much as they made out, they probably would have passed the test with flying colors. It feels like another lifetime, quietly kissing Shireen in her room, praying to God that nobody comes home early, or that nobody notices her flushed face when they finally did. How’s the studying going girls, her parents would ask, and they would both shrug coolly. “It’s going alright, we definitely need more practice,” Shireen had said on one occasion, winking at her when her parents weren’t looking. Adena had turned a deep shade of red and excused herself to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

It was time that she should have spent studying that she dreamt of going abroad, far from Tehran, far from the morality police and the people who forced her to hide her sexuality. Adena dreamed of Paris, Los Angeles, Dubai, London, Berlin, now they were all stamps in her passport. But right now, all she wishes is for her room to be next door to Sara’s again, so she can steal her headscarves, and listen to music with her, and argue over who has to do laundry this time. She wishes she could be there to test her with study cards, and make her tea when she’s staying up late, and brag to her friends about her little sister studying so hard for the Concours.

“Hey” Kat whispers sleepily, “Y’kay?”  
“Yeah” Adena nods, shuffling down into the bed to get more comfortable. “What’s wrong?” Kat asks. “Nothing, I’m just thinking about Sara and how stressed she is for her exam” Adena confesses. “Don’t worry babe, if she’s any bit as smart as her sister she’ll do great, no worries” Kat says. Adena threads their fingers together and brings their hands up to her lips, pressing them softly to the back of Kat’s hand, “ _Merci joonam_ ” she says quietly, as Kat’s eyes close again.

III.

“Okay, so remind me again why I had to get this goldfish all of a sudden, also I went to like three different pet stores because they were out, how weird is that?” Kat says holding out a clear bag with a little orange fish swimming around in it.

“Kat, I told you _baba_ , it’s for the New Year’s table, the _haft seen_ ”, Adena takes the bag from her and settles it on the counter. She’s in the middle of arranging some cloves of garlic and apples on a silver platter. “And all the Persians probably got to the pet store before you”.  
“Oh man, how have I not known about the sudden disappearance of goldfish every spring equinox?” Kat says. “Well, because you didn’t have a beautiful Iranian girlfriend back then to teach you all about Persian New Year” Adena says, with the lift of her eyebrow.

“Oh, good answer” Kat laughs, “Okay so, seven things that start with the letter S go on the table right? For good luck in the new year?”  
“ _Afareen!_ Well done, you remembered. It’s not so much for good luck, everything that is on the table symbolizes something, like the _sib_ ,” Adena holds up an apple for Kat, “the _sib_ is to symbolize beauty and health”. She picks up a small vase now filled with vinegar, “ _Serkeh_ , the vinegar, is for patience and a long life”. She carefully arranges them again on the small table set aside for the occasion. “The goldfish however, doesn’t start with S, but it symbolizes life as well”.  
“That’s so cool, and this is so beautifully set up, do you mind if I take a picture of the table when it’s all done for Scarlet’s twitter? I think it would be cool to wish our followers a happy Persian new year,” Kat says.  
“Of course _joonam_ , I’ll let you know when it’s all set.” Adena looks in the cupboard for a small fishbowl she keeps hidden for this very occasion.

Kat is leafing through a book of poems that Adena has also left on the small table. A book of poems that would make it’s way from hand to hand until it went all around the room every New Year party. It was a tradition, they would take the worn book of poems written by Hafiz and pass it around to each other, opening a page at random and reading a few lines out loud as a fortune for the year to come. This particular copy is written in both English and Farsi, one she found in a bookstore in Los Angeles on her first trip to the states. She still remembers how excited she was when she found it, feeling like her tongue, tired from speaking only English for a few days, could finally relax for a few moments. She’s carried it with her since, always at the bottom of her luggage or at the edge of her bookshelf, never far. The book still doesn’t replace the one she had growing up. The worn copy that lived in her parent’s bedroom was the one she grew up on. It was a paperback copy of his poems, with the spine bent and the pages curling, that her mother and father would take turns reading aloud from as she lay in bed. The beat copy that would be passed around from uncle to aunt to cousin every _nowruz_ , reading from whatever page it would fall open to.

“Where’s the one about the sun and the moon?” Kat asks, flipping carefully with her eyebrows drawn. Adena smiles, “You mean the earth? Even after all this time the sun never says to the Earth, "You owe me." Look what happens with a love like that, it lights the whole sky,” she recites in English. Adena walks over to where Kat is still standing, and bumps her hips against Kat’s, “You mean that one?”  
“Yeah that one” Kat hip checks her back, “I love that you know it by heart” she says smiling.  
“Well it finally paid off, I’ve been waiting to use that line on someone” Adena winks at her.  
Kat blushes with a smile, and rests her head on Adena’s shoulder, “Well I’m happy it was me then” she admits. “Me too, _nowruz mubarak_ Kat” Adena says.

 

IV.

Adena’s alarm goes off at three in the morning. She turns the alarm off, and tries to slowly untangled herself from Kat, not wanting to wake her up. She pads into the kitchen, turning the kettle on and starts pulling out dates, yogurt, and cheese from the refrigerator and puts some bread in the toaster. She goes to set the food on table and finds a half sleep Kat already seated.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” A sleepy eyed Kat mutters, with the blanket they keep on the couch wrapped around her shoulders.  
“Sweetheart, I told you it’s alright, you don’t have to sit up with me while I eat” Adena presses a kiss to Kat’s head as she sits and joins her at the table.  
“Yeah, but I don’t want you sitting all alone” Kat mumbles, still trying to wake up. Adena smiles, “Alright then, suit yourself”.

Adena eats in silence for a while, and Kat rests her head on the table. Adena fills up her last glass of water to drink before the sun starts to rise and she has to pray _fajr_. “Kat” she whispers, “Go to bed, it’s almost time for me to pray anyway”. Kat just hums and sits up, “S’kay, I wanna stay”. Adena laughs quietly, “You know, we were like that when we were little too”. She tells Kat about how when she and her siblings were too little to fast during Ramadan, they would beg their parents to wake them up before dawn so they could sit up with them before the sunrise. She remembers her brother eating dates to keep himself awake, sometimes chewing with his eyes close. Sometimes they would all end up in fits of laugher over something silly.

“Three am is a strange time you know,” Adena tells Kat, “Things are always funnier, and you laugh for no reason, but also things feel much more serious. My parents would tell us stories from before the revolution and I would go to bed feeling so heavy with anger about it. Angry that the revolution happened, angry that my parents didn’t leave when they had the chance, angry that I was too young to do anything.” Kat listens to her with her head tilted, awake now. “But those were also times when I felt so close to my family, the five of us sitting together waiting for sunrise. Ramadan has never felt the same after I left Tehran. I fast, I pray, I read the Q’uran as much as I can, and I abstain from the things I’m supposed to, but it never feels the same. Objectively I know it’s the holy month and I do reflect a lot and strengthen my faith, but it felt so different as a kid.”

Kat reaches out and starts playing with the tips of Adena’s fingertips, “I kinda get it, like when you grow up and the holidays never feel the same? It always feels like something is missing?” Adena hums in agreement, “Yeah, like that”.

They sit in silence for a minute until Kat breaks it by clearing her throat, “So back to the abstaining from stuff thing.” She studies their fingertips, not looking at Adena just yet, “I’ve been reading up about Ramadan and like what it means to fast and everything and I read that you’re also supposed to abstain from sex…” Her voice goes up in the end and she finally looks up at Adena, who is now giggling. “Yes, that’s true actually”.

Kat narrows her eyes, “Um, when exactly did you plan on telling me this?” she asks. “Well, to be totally honest I thought it would be fun to wait until you’re all hot and bothered and then I would tell you” Adena says still giggling.  
“Oh? Fun for who exactly?” Kat says laughing, “Because I’m pretty sure the word I would use is cruel”.  
“Well, I have been called a tease before” Adena drawls, leaning back in her chair, separating their hands.  
“You are something else entirely El-Amin” Kat says.

V.

They are watching A Separation, Kat has never seen it before and Adena is personally offended. Adena rants about how Asghar Farhadi is a new wave genius and his films are of a different standard. Kat is used to seeing Adena passionate about things, but this was the first time Adena has insisted that Kat clear her schedule that very night so they could watch it together. Adena is sitting on the opposite end of the couch, legs crossed under her.

"I take film watching very seriously” Adena informed Kat as they sat down to watch it. Kat laughed her off and reminded her of all the times they had put a movie on and ended up doing other things instead, other things that usually wound up with their clothes strewn around the room and the smell of burning popcorn lingering in the air. Those were not serious films, Adena informed her, and sat far enough away from Kat that she spent the first ten minutes of the film pouting instead of paying attention.

Adena gets up at one point when her mom calls her, but motions for Kat to keep watching instead of pausing it. She always takes calls from home, scared to miss anyone because of the time difference. Sometimes that means that Kat ends up eating half her dinner alone, chewing slowly and hoping that Adena will hang up soon. Or other times it means that Kat wakes up to Adena whispering on the phone in order to catch up with her sister after school, when she has time and the conversation isn’t cut short.

One time Adena was the shower while Kat was making them breakfast and her phone rang. The caller ID was in Farsi, and of course leave it to Adena to not have an accompanying caller photo. Kat grabbed the phone and opened the door to the foggy bathroom, raising her voice over the running shower, “Adena your phone is ringing, but the ID is in Farsi so I don’t know who it is, do you have any idea who it might be?” Kat asks hopefully.  
Adena’s humming stops “Ummmm, it might be my friend Arias, or it could be my dad?”  
“Do you want me to pick up and say anything?” There are probably three more rings left, and Kat silently hopes that Adena says no.  
“No it’s fine, I’ll call them back” she answers, “Thank you anyway”.

Here is the thing, Duolingo doesn’t offer Farsi. Kat checked.

She even called their customer service number to see if it might be available soon. And even if she does manage to learn how to speak the language, there is the whole matter of learning a whole different alphabet and learning how to read and write all over again. Not to mention that it is a language that goes from right to left, which always results in Kat leafing through Adena’s books backwards until Adena gently reminds her by turning it to the correct cover. Kat knows how confident Adena is, in any language, but every once in a while she forgets the word for something in English and she taps her fingers on the table rhythmically until it comes to her. One time it takes her a whole twenty-four hours to remember the word for cardamom in English. This all fascinates Kat, who shamefully confessed to Adena on their first official date that she could only speak one language. Adena had simply waved her hand saying, “You still have time to learn another”.

Sometimes Kat watches Adena when she speaks Farsi on the phone, or to her Persian friends when they all get together in New York. Her posture is more relaxed, but even more confident, she is more animated, she gets loud and speaks fast. This is in contrast to her slow, and perfectly calculated English that leaves no room for fillers or mistakes. Adena does not stumble over her words in English, or says things like “um” or “like” and Kat wonders if she does in Farsi. Sometimes Kat is irrationally jealous of other Iranian people who know Adena, because they get to know her in her more original form, comfortable in her mother tongue. Objectively Kat knows this is silly, but sometimes she can’t help but wonder if she would like Adena more if she understood Farsi, or even if Adena would like her more if she learned the language.

“I’m so sorry, it was my mom” Adena whispers as she comes back into the living room, settling back on the couch, still too far from Kat. Kat waves her apology off. The film finishes soon after and they are both left heart broken and frustrated with the ending. “What the hell, we watched this whole thing and that’s how it ends?” Kat is almost annoyed now. Adena insists that this is the mark of a good film, “But he made you feel something, no? Even though we are upset with it, that is still a very strong feeling to have because of a film, right?” Kat finally acquiesces, and surrenders, “You’re right, no wonder it won an Oscar”. Adena hums and nods in agreement, stretching her legs out so her toes are now tucked under Kat’s thigh.

“Are all Persian films that good?” Kat asks as she shifts so she’s mirroring Adena, her feet propped on Adena’s lap.  
Adena chuckles, “No, also ‘good’ is subjective, art and beauty is in the eye of the beholder”. Kat rolls her eyes; she should have seen that one coming. “But no, I actually hated Persian films when I was younger, all I wanted to do what watch Hollywood films” Adena says. “Really, I cannot imagine that. All I can picture is a little Adena with a very serious face, and a camera around her neck going to watch like art house Persian films” Kat laughs. “Oh please” Adena rolls her eyes, “Come on Kat, I was a very normal child. Plus, the American girls in Hollywood films were always so much hotter”.

I.

“You know one of the first things I did when I came to this city was spend the day here,” Kat says. They are walking through Central Park and it feels like the last few moments of summer, the air is still sweet but the crowds of tourists have all returned home. Adena looks up at her, “Really? I wouldn’t think you’d do something like that.” Kat nudges Adena’s shoulder with her own, “Like what? Cliché?” Adena laughs, “Pretty much, that sounds that something I’m supposed to do.”

“Nah” Kat shakes her head, “I didn’t grow up in this city, so when I first moved here I had to get all the cliché touristy stuff out of my system”. Kat doesn’t think of those first weeks in New York City often, but she wishes she knew Adena back then. Wish they could have discovered it together. Kat imagines them getting lost on the subway together, shopping together, being in awe of the architect together, and of course taking obligatory pictures. The thought quietly dawns on Kat, she wants “firsts” with Adena. She’s had plenty already of course, the first woman she’s kissed, the first woman she’s had sex with, the first person she’s got on a plane for, the first person she’s wanted to show off to everyone, the first person she’s thrown a punch for. She wants more “firsts” with Adena.

Adena looks at Kat who is walking along absently, and reaches out to link their fingers together.  
“ _Alo_? Anyone home?” Adena teases. Kat shakes her head, “I’m fine, yeah”. “Where did you go just now?” Adena asks. “I don’t know, I was just thinking about when I first moved here and how much things have changed you know. I wish we knew each other back then.” Kat says, unsure of how to articulate her real thoughts to Adena.

Adena shakes her head, “No, I needed some time when I first came here, I don’t think you would have liked me then”. Kat looks up at her, eyebrows scrunched together. “Well” Adena continues, “I first came to New York and it felt a little overwhelming, but I enjoyed the anonymity for a little bit. I had some friends here, but everyone was so busy all the time. I felt a little frustrated because I didn’t know what my goal was, I had to figure out what I wanted out of the city first” she says shrugging. Kat shakes her head, “Nah, I still would have liked you, and we would have figured it out together”.

They walk in silence for a few more minutes, both lost in their thoughts until Kat clears her throat. “You’re the first person I’ve ever held hands with walking in this park” she states.  
“Really?” Adena giggles, “That’s very sweet Kat”. “I didn’t realize what a big deal hand holding was until I came to America, you know?” Adena says. She explains to Kat that hand holding is quite common in Iran, especially for girls. “You even see guys holding hands, and it doesn’t really mean anything romantic, it’s just friendly” she shrugs. “But here, it just seems so blatantly obvious when two people are holding hands that they’re romantically involved”. Kat holds up their clasped hands, and quirks her eyebrows. “Exactly” Adena says rolling her eyes.  
“That’s so weird though, I honestly would have never expected hand holding to be such a chill thing in Iran, it’s basically considered to be a public display of affection here” Kat says shaking her head in disbelief, “there’s so much I don’t know about Iran” she adds quietly. The “and you” goes unspoken.

“Well, it’s not your fault, you guys aren’t taught about the East as much as people there are taught about the West” Adena says shrugging. “It’s so unfair though, it does such a disservice to everyone, like I’m constantly worried about looking like an idiot in front of you for not knowing like basic things about the Middle East, remember the time I got Iran and Iraq mixed up?” Kat says. Adena laughs, “You were mortified when I pointed it out to you”. “I still am!” Kat says, her voice getting higher. Adena pulls them towards an empty bench, “Come here”.  
She looks at Kat as they sit down, “Kat listen to me, there are plenty of things that I don’t know about America either, I’m always learning new things from you.” Kat shrugs, “I guess”.  
“But you know what I love about you Kat? Whenever I do mention things about home or Islam you always listen, you always try to remember, and you ask questions when you don’t know. That means more to me than you’ll know” Adena says.

“Yeah?” Kat says unsurely, looking at her smiling.  
“Yeah baba, that touches me here” Adena smiles and brings her free hand to her chest. Kat leans in close and kisses her softly. A kiss that reminds them that they have so much more to learn about each other, about their hopes and dreams, their past lives and loves. A kiss that promises each other that they’re ready and willing to show up for each other. A kiss that says what words sometimes can’t. I’m here for you. I want to be here. I want to see what’s next.

They pull apart and Adena runs her hand over Kat’s cheek. “You know, there’s an awful lot I miss about Iran, but whenever I do that I remember why I left in the first place.”

**Author's Note:**

> roosari – headscarf   
> lutfaan – please   
> geeryan nakun azizam – don’t cry sweetheart   
> nameeshe dega – I can’t do it anymore/ it won’t happen anymore  
> joon – a term of endearment (however, if translated literally means one’s physical body, and joonam means you are my body)   
> merci – thank you  
> baba – a term of endearment (but it is also the word for dad or granddad)   
> haft seen – a table display made for Persian New Year that (literally translated means seven “seen” and “seen” is the Farsi equivalent to the letter S)   
> afareen – good job/ well done   
> sib – apple  
> serkeh – vinegar  
> nowruz – new year (but if you literally translate it nowruz means new day)  
> nowruz mubarak – happy new year  
> fajr – dawn prayer  
> alo – hello 
> 
> Hiya, I'm also myoldfriend on Tumblr!


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